Chapter 9 - Emily Chose to Meet Rebecca Before She Chose to See Helen Again
Three months later, Emily asked:
“Can I meet Rebecca?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
Then:
“Can Grandma Helen be there?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because this meeting is about you and Rebecca.”
Emily nodded.
Good.
No adult triangle.
We met at a family therapist’s office.
Rebecca arrived first.
Emily held my hand all the way to the door.
Then saw her.
Stopped.
Rebecca looked like:
family.
Not identical.
Nothing cinematic.
Same brown eyes.
Similar mouth.
A particular way of tilting her head.
Emily whispered:
“Whoa.”
Rebecca laughed nervously.
“Yeah.”
No one knew what to do next.
Perfect.
The therapist helped.
Emily asked:
“Why did you give me away?”
Rebecca did not say because Helen made me.
Important.
“I was twenty and scared. I did not think I could be the parent you needed.”
“Did you want me?”
“Yes.”
“Then why?”
“Wanting a baby and feeling ready to raise a baby are different.”
Good.
Then:
“Did Grandma make you?”
Rebecca looked at me.
I let the therapist handle:
pace.
Rebecca answered:
“Grandma pressured me strongly. But I signed the adoption papers. I don’t want you believing somebody stole you from me.”
That distinction protected:
Emily.
Then:
“Do you wish you didn’t?”
Rebecca cried.
“Sometimes I wish I had been stronger. Sometimes I’m grateful you got Laura. Both are true.”
Emily looked at:
me.
I did not need to win.
Then she asked:
“Are you my mom?”
Rebecca answered:
“Laura is your mom.”
No hesitation.
“I’m the woman who gave birth to you. I’m also David’s sister. You can decide what you want to call me.”
Emily thought.
“Rebecca.”
Rebecca smiled through tears.
“Rebecca works.”
Then they talked about:
ordinary things.
Favorite foods.
Music.
Emily hated tomatoes.
Rebecca also hated tomatoes.
Potential genetic miracle?
No.
Half the country hates:
tomatoes.
We laughed.
Then medical history.
Rebecca gave us updated information relevant to Emily.
Useful.
Then the meeting ended after one hour.
Emily did not run into Rebecca’s arms.
Rebecca did not collapse afterward.
We went for ice cream.
Emily said:
“She’s nice.”
“Yes.”
“Do I have to love her?”
“No.”
“Can I?”
“Yes.”
That was how it should be.
Then she asked about Helen.
“Did Grandma know Rebecca wanted me?”
I answered:
“She knew Rebecca cared about you.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Seven years old and already precise.
I said:
“Yes. Grandma knew Rebecca wanted some kind of future contact.”
“And didn’t tell us.”
“Yes.”
Emily looked out the window.
Then:
“I’m not ready to see her.”
“Okay.”
No guilt.
Then the next clue arrived from an unexpected place.
Rebecca brought a box of old letters Helen had returned after their latest confrontation.
Among them was the letter Rebecca believed she had sent to Harbor when Emily was two.
The envelope was sealed.
Never mailed.
On the front, in Helen’s handwriting:
DO NOT FORWARD. CLOSED MEANS CLOSED.
Helen had not merely discouraged:
contact.
May you like
She had physically stopped one of Rebecca’s letters from reaching the agency.
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